


maybe we are too peculiar for love

by bookhobbit



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexuality, Developing Relationship, M/M, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 11:49:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5247197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookhobbit/pseuds/bookhobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ponder realizes he wants something from Rincewind. He's not quite sure what it is yet, but he's okay with taking time to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	maybe we are too peculiar for love

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the thoughts between worlds over two years ago as a way to explore the dynamic these two have going on. Since then I've changed how I think about them a lot, so...here. Here's a thing. It's easily the longest thing I've written for them and I'm quite proud of that.

It's three days after the conclusion of the second phase of the Roundworld Project that Ponder does it.

He doesn't intend to. But he goes to lunch and, well, he can't help noticing. After spending so much time on one a project together his eye can't help but seek him out.  
  
Rincewind sits among the other wizards, a thin hunched bitter line among the well-rounded confidence of the faculty. He looks fearful; more than that, he looks resigned to fear, as if he's accepted that this is the fate in store for him, always. Ponder has never really noticed it before, but it's harder to miss now that he's been spending more time with Rincewind.   
  
Ponder hesitates, and, absurdly, he remembers sitting alone at meals when he was a student, how exposed he'd always felt.  
  
He moves over and sits down across from Rincewind.  
  
Rincewind looks up, nods at him, looks back down. 

"Hello," says Ponder, rather inanely he thinks.

"Hello," says Rincewind, not looking up from his food.

"How has your day gone?" Gods, this sounds trite. Why is he doing this?

Rincewind looks back up then and raises an eyebrow. "Do you want something?"

"Ah, no?" Ponder fiddles with his fork. "I just, you were sitting alone and I thought I'd come talk to you."

"Oh." Rincewind looks suspicious. "That's all?"

"Yes."

"I see."

There is a long and very awkward silence while Rincewind eats mashed potatoes quietly and Ponder asks himself what he's doing here. It's finally broken when Rincewind says, "What are you lot up to at the HEM building, then?"  
  
"We're researching the Things," says Ponder enthusiastically, glad of both the ice-breaker and the opportunity to talk about his research with a willing listener. Or semi-willing, anyway. "I think there's a great deal to learn about magic."  
  
Rincewind's eyebrows raise. "Better you than me," he says.

"You don't think it's a good idea?"

"I don't think it's safe, that's all. But it's not as if that's ever stopped you."

Ponder frowns. "We won't be summoning them or anything," he says. "I don't see what they could do if they're not released."

"Well, the Things can possess people," says Rincewind. "If they're called, I suppose."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"Saw it once." Rincewind shudders. "It's awful. They look out at you from behind someone else's eyes. I don't mind telling you, that was in the top ten of the worst things I've ever seen."  
  
Ponder feels as though he should be taking notes. It's like wizarding history from the bottom up. "Whose head did they take over?" he asks.   
  
"Man called Trymon's. It was before your time, I would imagine. He was a former classmate of mine."  
  
"Oh," says Ponder, "I'm sorry. Were you friends?"  
  
Rincewind blinks. "No," he says. "Wizards didn't have friends, not those days. Not other wizards, anyway."  
  
"Oh," says Ponder. "Before Ridcully. But there were gangs, surely?"  
  
"I wasn't in Trymon's," says Rincewind, and his expression is distant.  
  
"Oh," says Ponder again. He remembers his student days. There have always been bullies -   
  
"Was this during the Sorcerer incident?" he asks, to change the subject.  
  
"No, earlier. First time."  
  
"How many times have you fought Things from the Dungeon Dimensions?" asks Ponder, staring at Rincewind.  
  
Rincewind pauses to consider. "At least two," he decides. "Could be more. Hard to remember, sometimes."  
  
"And elves?"  
  
Rincewind waggles a finger. "Not elves," he says. "Never fight elves, that's my advice to you. Run away from them."  
  
"But not Things?"  
  
"Well, run if you can. That's my approach to the world. But you can't always." Rincewind puts a spoonful of potatoes in his mouth. "Sometimes there's nowhere to run to."  
  
You think you know someone, Ponder thinks. He'd always thought of Rincewind as a coward and a clown, just that, nothing else. And then it turned out he spoke a number of languages in the double digits, and had a quite impressive mind for strategy, and had fought Things from the Dungeon Dimensions at least twice. He wonders how many times Rincewind has wearily, sarcastically, marched out and helped to save the world, or some bit of it, because there would be nowhere to run to if he didn't.  
  
He says, "Perhaps you can tell me a bit more about them. Over a drink. Sometime."  
  
Rincewind looks at him suspiciously. "All right," he says. "Why?"  
  
"Well, we know so little. Anyway, if you really think it's dangerous we ought to be aware of the risks. You were there for how long?"  
  
"Don't know." Rincewind takes another bite. "It felt like a couple of weeks. When I got out, it'd been years, I don't know how many."  
  
"Hmm. Interdimensional time-dilation." Ponder nods. "Yes. I would definitely like to know more."

-

They meet at the Drum. Ponder doesn't know what he's expecting from this encounter. He thinks he wants something more than information on interdimensional time-dilation - there's been an itch building in the back of his mind, an interest in taking this farther than maybe he should want to. Exactly what that consists of he's not quite sure yet, but he wants to find out.

Rincewind looks tense, on-edge, though Ponder knows he comes here with the Librarian quite often. By the time they have drinks and a table he's calmed down a little.

"What did you want to know?"

"Well, you said a few weeks and a few years."

"Yeah." Rincewind takes a sip. "It's like...to me it didn't feel like that long. But I got out and everyone else told me it had been ages. That was after I had got back home, of course, which took a while. I was out on an island for a while - "

"I remember when we brought you back, yes."

"Right. Thanks for that, by the way." Rincewind pauses and gazes down at his drink for a moment. "Let's see...I was in Agatea after that, and then I got stuck on Fourecks. Never understood that."

"That, er, may have been a result of HEX's calculations."

Rincewind's eyes narrow. "Is that why."

"Yes." Ponder keeps his eyes resolutely on his glass.

"I shall have to have a word with him. But anyway...I got back after Fourecks - you know, you were on the ship, and I never did get the full story there by the way."

"I'll tell you sometime."

"Right. Well, after that I went and looked at a calendar finally and there was definitely a gap. I couldn't make it add up." Rincewind makes a face. "I don't know how long, because I can't say for sure how long I was on the island or on Fourecks or anything. It's all a bit confusing."

"I can imagine. And then in the Dimensions themselves it took a few weeks?"

Rincewind shivers. "Yeah. I think. That's...my memories from that period are a bit weird."

"I'm sorry, are you okay?"

"Yeah. Um. Sorry." Rincewind blinks. "I'm fine. Do you want to know anything else?"

Ponder hesitates. "Did you - what was it like?"

Rincewind looks into his glass. "Not pleasant. Sort of...a grey sandy desert. I think there was an ocean but I can't remember - horrible things in it, or maybe I dreamed it."

"A desert?" Ponder leans forward. "They live in a desert?"

"Yes. Or maybe a beach." Rincewind shrugs. "The scenery's a bit of a blur."

"Why'd they chase you?"

"I don't know. But they did."

There's a silence. Then Rincewind says, "I ran for days. Or that's what it felt like. Days and weeks. They were always behind me. Sometimes I could stop and rest for a bit, and the Luggage would keep them back, but they'd always be behind me no matter what I did. No matter how far I ran. It was…" He stops.

The edgy look is back and Ponder feels a tendril of worry curl in his chest. "Are you okay?"

Rincewind shakes his head. He's gone very bloodless, Ponder realizes, very tight around the mouth and eyes. His hands are curled into fists and he's breathing much harder than he should be.

"Do you need to go?"

Rincewind nods. Ponder takes him by the arm and guides him out the door, over to a bench outside the pub. Rincewind is shivering a little, like there's something he's afraid of just around the corner, and he's gripping Ponder's hand very tightly.  
  
Ponder holds his hand till it passes. Finally Rincewind seems to have calmed down; he is taking deep shuddery breaths, eyes still tight, but the shivering has eased. He lets go of Ponder's hand and turns away a little.

"Better?" says Ponder quietly.  
  
"Yeah. I'm sorry," says Rincewind shakily.  
  
"Don't be," says Ponder. He pats Rincewind's hand awkwardly. "Does that - happen every time you talk about it?"

"Um. No. Just sometimes. Sometimes it just seems too close. Like they could break through any minute."

"Oh. Because I thought perhaps I did something wrong?"

Rincewind glances up at him and shakes his head. "It's not you, no. Don't worry about it. It happens sometimes. Not always about this, just - stuff." He takes a deep breath. "I'm all right now."

Ponder nods. He wonders if this is a sign that he should leave Rincewind alone, if it really is him and he ought to quit.

But it doesn't scare him off, that's the funny thing. He's a little concerned, but everyone has their oddities, and if this is Rincewind's, it's not the worst it could be.

"Come on," he says, "Let's get back to the university. I can probably find something for us to drink. We'll be more comfortable there anyway."

-

The trouble is, it doesn't stop. They go out again, and then they stay in and complain because it's easier and nobody else has to deal with the senior wizards on a regular basis. Rincewind can do an astonishingly accurate impression of Ridcully's speech style, even though he's too angular to get the stance right.

"They're just so stubborn," says Ponder. "They don't listen to _anything_. Except Ridcully, but then it's only when it's convenient for him and usually that means inconvenient for me."

"I know," says Rincewind, "And they don't pay attention to sensible warnings or caution."

"Exactly!" Ponder pokes viciously at his pizza with his finger. "You tell them not to stick their head in a firecracker and they just go 'oh, so you think, do you? so you don't think, do you?' I hate it."

"They ought to listen to you," says Rincewind, "You're the only sensible person around this place. They're always getting the entire university into trouble and then you have to get them out. It'd save time if they just paid attention."

"It'd never happen," says Ponder bitterly. "I'm just the only one who does the numbers and messes about with the funny thing in the squash court, aren't I?"

Rincewind pats him on the arm. "I think it's very impressive. Extremely risky, most of it, of course. You couldn't pay me to get involved. But impressive. Pushing back the frontiers and all that."

"You've already been involved."

"Well, yes," says Rincewind, "But I wasn't paid."

Ponder is startled by his own laughter. He can feel his urge - whatever it is - building, so he doesn't try to steer it. He just hangs on when they start sitting together at meals on the regular, while Rincewind rants about the kind of bears you get in the Hub and why they're terrible, while he finds himself talking about HEX's latest innovations. While he learns that Rincewind knows both High and Low Borogravian and explains the difference between them and laughs and makes a face when Ponder tries to pronounce either.

"Languages have never been my strong point," says Ponder.

"I can see that," says Rincewind, and there's something in his eyes that Ponder has never seen before. He's not sure what it is, but he does think it's good. He's smiling, Ponder knows that, which is more than he used to.

Ponder smiles back, a little hesitant but glad all the same. He feels he's making progress, whatever that might be.

It's all fine until one day they're sitting in Ponder's office in the HEM building, talking about students, which Rincewind has somehow acquired, much to his own apparent shock.

"I think it's very impressive," says Ponder. "They came to you because they wanted to learn. That's something."

"Huh. Don't know what they want to learn."

"Well, some of them will be better at pronouncing High Borogravian than me."

Rincewind smirks. "It's not a difficult contest."

"Yes, _thank_  you," says Ponder pointedly.

"You left yourself open for that one, Ponder."

"I know, I know," says Ponder, making a face. "You can make fun of me when _you'v_ e spent twelve hours at a stretch trying to program HEX. I haven't any brain cells left for other things."

Rincewind raises an eyebrow at him. "You're leaving yourself open again," he says, "You really shouldn't do that. I could have said something. Oh, the things I could have said. But I'm being merciful."

"Thank you," says Ponder sarcastically. "I can see you're the soul of mercy."

"That's right," says Rincewind, "That's me. Compassionate to my very bones…" He laughs a little, something Ponder doesn't know if he's ever heard before. "No, I can't keep that up."

"Sarcastic to your very bones, is more like," says Ponder.

"That's a reasonable statement," says Rincewind, shrugging.

"You know I don't think you've ever addressed me by name before," Ponder says.

"Haven't I? Huh. Did I just?"

"Yes."

"'s a good name," says Rincewind. "Don't know why I haven't used it properly before."

He looks so relaxed this way, leaning on Ponder's desk and looking at him with the faintest hint of humor, and Ponder knows then where he wants this to go. He's blown over by the force of the sudden knowledge - not exactly strength of feeling, but clarity of purpose.

He leans forward and reaches for Rincewind's hand, and Rincewind flinches away.

"What," he says.

"Sorry," says Ponder, "I didn't mean - "

"No, that's not - I just, where were you intending to go with that?"

"I think I was intending to hold your hand? If you don't want me to..."

"It's not that. I just think maybe for your own sake it would be better if you didn't." Rincewind glances over at his hand. "There are...extenuating factors."

And that's fair; Ponder thinks for a moment,  _this is more than I signed up for._   Rincewind's mouth is set into a twisted line and he looks brittle, like he'll shatter if Ponder pokes too hard at him. _I signed up for research, and a drinking buddy, and someone I could rant about the faculty to, and this -_  
  
This is complicated, or it's heading toward complicated, and it scares Ponder a little. But, he thinks, complicated has always interested him, so why should it? But he doesn't want to leave this. He doesn't know if it's scientific curiosity or some sort of odd, recently-developed affection, or stubbornness; maybe it's all three.

"No," he says.

"Sorry?"

"I'm not just going to go away because it's going to be difficult. If you don't like me, it's all right. You can tell me to shove off, or tell me I'm not interesting, or - it doesn't matter, I will. I swear I will. Just tell me straight, please. I'm not good at subtlety. But I'm not going to stop because you think I don't like you, or because you think you need to protect me from something." Ponder twiddles with a toggle on his robe. "I _do_  like you, you know. You ought to know that, either way."

Rincewind draws in a sharp breath. "It's not like that," he says. "I do. Like you too, I mean. I - I don't want you to go away. It's just that if anything good happens to me, or even looks like it's going to happen to me, then something bad happens to balance it out. It's just a fact of my life. I've been living it a long time. I know how it works."

Ponder pauses. He says, slowly, "This would be good?"

Rincewind looks down at his feet. "Yes. It would."

"So then you want - ?"

"It's not so much a question of what I want as what I might be able to get without some kind of disaster, but...yes. I do."

Ponder takes a breath. He's...very aware of the fragility here. Of the perpetual sense of rootlessness surrounding Rincewind. He doesn't quite belong at the university, and he belongs elsewhere even less. Ponder doesn't want to contribute to that. He says, helplessly, "I just - I don't want to break you."  
  
Rincewind laughs. It's not a happy sound. He says, "Believe me, if it was that easy, I wouldn't be here."  
  
"That's not what I - " Ponder begins, and then he bites his lip. "I'm not sure what I do mean."

"Well," says Rincewind. "I don't usually know either, so that makes two of us."

Ponder gives him a tiny smile. "I'm sorry."  
  
"For what?" says Rincewind, furrowing his brow.  
  
Ponder leans forward and kisses him. It's not planned; he'd only known he was going to do it when he had apologized for it. Which is unusual, but this evening has been full of unexpected situations.  
  
Rincewind is still, very still, and so Ponder pulls back.  
  
They regard each other, Rincewind warily, Ponder with worry.

"Why did you do that?" says Rincewind at last. "This is not an objection, mind."

"Because I wanted to," says Ponder. "Because you looked like you might need it. I don't know. I'm not sure I had a logical reason, which is quite unusual for me. I do think things through, normally. Or at least I try." He realizes he's babbling and shuts his mouth with a click.  
  
"That," says Rincewind, "may not have been a good idea."  
  
"I know," says Ponder, feeling the tips of his ears heat up in mortification, "I'm sorry - "  
  
"Not what I meant," says Rincewind. He waves his hands, as if trying to reach words. "I just meant - oh, gods." He leans forward and kisses Ponder, with one hand on Ponder's shoulder. Ponder doesn't think he's ever been kissed with this much careful restraint before, like Rincewind is afraid Ponder is the one who will break. Or maybe like he's afraid of being pushed away.  
  
"Okay?" he says when he draws back.  
  
Ponder nods. He thinks he might be smiling.  
  
"But it still isn't a good idea," says Rincewind. "I'm not - I'm not very good at this, and even more than that, the universe isn't very good at letting me have things like this. It's like I told you. I don't know what'll happen."  
  
"Well," says Ponder, "I look forward to finding out."   
  
Rincewind blinks. He looks up at the ceiling.   
  
"What are you doing?" Ponder asks.  
  
"I'm waiting for the sky to fall in," says Rincewind.  
  
Ponder huffs. "You are completely ridiculous," he says.

-

Except now, a few weeks on, Ponder is worried. There's one matter that's always nagged at him, as soon as he embarks on any sort of - thing, or even thinks about it.

But the easiest thing to do is address it, even if Ponder really, really doesn't want to talk about it. So he's going to.

"Um," says Ponder, peeking his head into Rincewind's doorway. "Can I talk to you?"

Rincewind gets that trapped, hunted look. "What about?"

"Nothing bad. I promise."

"Can you give me a one-word summary of what this conversation will be about?"

"Um…" says Ponder. He can feel the blush starting "Er." He swallows. "That is to say… Sex."

Rincewind stares at him. "...okay," he says carefully. "Sit down."

Ponder shifts a stack of boxes marked 'friendly cragged rocks' to the floor and perches on the bed next to Rincewind. He's aware this is not the most auspicious place to have this conversation, but he doesn't want to make this any more embarrassingly stiff and formal than it already is by moving.

"All right," says Rincewind, setting his pen down. "What about sex?"

"I don't want it," says Ponder defiantly.

"Okay. Good to know."

"You don't mind?" Ponder feels vaguely off-balance. He'd expected something more. And, frankly, given the amount of thought he'd put into what to say to explain, he's a little annoyed.

"Not especially, no." Rincewind shrugs and picks up a paper. "It's not really - well, it's not important to me, put it like that. At all. Never has been."

"Oh. Really? I've never met someone else who - " Ponder stops and takes a breath. "So you won't mind if we…just continue on as we've been doing?"

"Not at all."

"Oh," says Ponder again. He feels lightheaded with relief. He'd expected - actually, he doesn't know what he expected, not having had many opportunities for this conversation before. Not this. "I had an entire speech prepared, you know," he says a little reproachfully.

Rincewind snorts. "And I suppose you don't want to waste it."

"I spent ages on it, Rincewind."

"Fine, fine."

"Okay. So, what I wanted to say is, it's not you, I'm like this with everyone, although I haven't exactly had many...er, whatever it is we are, I haven't had many of them before, or really any. Not formally. Not that this is formal."

Rincewind regards him over the papers. "This is you planning out a speech, is it?"

"I may have got a bit off-track. Don't interrupt." Ponder twiddles a bit with one of his robe toggles. "Right. The other thing is, I really don't know what this is, but it's important. I wanted to say that. I don't want to stop if you don't. If this is all - enough for you, I suppose."

Rincewind's expression has shifted to something a lot more serious. Something just this side of soft and a little stunned.

"I don't," he says. "I mean, it is."

"Good," says Ponder, and sits back against the wall. "That's all. I think I've quite finished my share of embarrassing speeches for this conversation."

Rincewind tries unsuccessfully to hide a smile. "I'm sorry, I don't have any to reciprocate with. But in fairness I think you've seen enough of me embarrassing myself for it to balance out."

"I don't think most of it was embarrassing," Ponder protests. "Not as much as this, anyway."

Rincewind shrugs. "We'll get through it," he says. "Or something." And his smile is weary and small but not hidden, this time as he reaches out and pats Ponder's hand.

-

Ponder has started a notebook. It's unlabeled because he's not sure how he would explain it if someone found it. But in his head he calls it Observations On Subject Double-Zed.

Rincewind finds out about it approximately a month after he starts it. Ponder's never been good at keeping secrets, and he's sitting at the table surreptitiously scribbling notes on eating habits when Rincewind says, "What are you doing?"

Ponder jumps guiltily. "Observing," he says.

"Observing what?"

"Er...you, mainly," Ponder admits. "It's a sort of record."

"About me?" Rincewind furrows his brow.

"Yes. Your reactions. Your likes and dislikes. That sort of thing."

"Like a file on me."

"Right. Sort of." Ponder grimaces. "Is that weird?"

Rincewind shrugs. "Probably, but I'm not bothered about it. Why?"

"Why the notebook?"

"Why keep records?"

Ponder looks down at his pencil. "Because this is important," he says. "I've never really had something like this, and I want to do it right. And you're...you know when you told me there'd be extenuating factors, and I said I was sticking around anyway?"

"Yes?" Rincewind's tone is guarded now so Ponder plunges on.

"Well, I wanted to make sure I wasn't making it any harder on either of us, so I'm noting down anything that might be an extenuating factor. Or a complication. Or that I just need to remember so I can be better at this, like where you don't and do want to be touched and what your favorite foods are and that sort of thing." It comes out in a rush and he can feel his cheeks heating up. "I know it sounds silly…"

"It doesn't sound silly," says Rincewind. "Nobody's ever cared enough about me to keep records about me. Erm. Thank you."

Ponder looks up at him. "You don't mind?"

"Not really. It's sort of comforting. I suppose that's weird too, so at least we're in good company."

That makes Ponder smile, for some reason. He says, "You can see it if you like. I mean, it's your information, I don't think you should be denied access to it."

Rincewind shrugs. "Never been a big fan of reading about myself," he says. "You keep it. Just make sure Ridcully doesn't see it is my advice. I hate to think what he'd say."

Ponder pulls a face. "Good gods, no. I can't imagine."

They go back to eating, but Rincewind keeps glancing back up at Ponder like he can't quite believe he's real.

-

Observations On Subject Double-Zed contains this note: Don't touch him without warning. Don't touch his back unless you ask permission beforehand.

This is a note made after a couple of times where Ponder reaches out to pat Rincewind on the arm or the back and sees him flinch.

"Do you not like that?" he asks.

"I don't mind it so much. It's just that it startles me."

"Do you want me to stop?"

Rincewind seems to consider this. "No. Just more warning, maybe?"

So Ponder starts telegraphing his movements, reaching out slowly instead of quickly, and he avoids the back, which Rincewind usually gets jumpy about.

Ponder finds out the reason for this one night, the third time they share a bed. The first and second times are...interesting - this is how Ponder finds out that Rincewind screams himself awake from nightmares every morning on the regular.

It's a little alarming, and frankly more than a little worrying, but he doesn't want to linger on it for fear of making Rincewind self-conscious, so he just notes down time and approximate duration.  But he wonders then what Rincewind has seen that it comes back every night.

This question, too, is partly answered on that third time.

It's warm, warm enough that they're both sleeping shirtless. It's definitely the first time Ponder's been this unclothed in front of Rincewind. The same is not true in reverse, but there's a great deal of difference between Rincewind appearing matter-of-factly in a loincloth because it's the universal costume for transdimensional travel and Rincewind sitting in front of him looking away slightly.

Ponder feels the vulnerability of it keenly. And then Rincewind turns to say something to the Luggage - which is on the wardrobe, even though it's Ponder's room - and Ponder sees the scars on his back.

Ridcully had said something about that, and there are a few on Rincewind's front, too, but up close like this Ponder is struck by it. His back looks like a map, and Ponder thinks if he could learn to read it he'd know a lot more about Rincewind than he does right now.

He doesn't say anything but Rincewind turns back and sees his face. "All right," he says, "Ask them."

"Sorry?"

"Questions. I know you have them."

"What are they from?"

"You'll have to be more specific."

"Can I - ?" Ponder reaches a hand out.

Rincewind nods, and turns. "Just...be careful, okay?"

"Of course." Ponder runs his fingers over a long jagged line that crosses Rincewind's spine. "This one?"

"Sword. Long story short, I was trying to escape a prison and a guard took offense."

There's a broad pink stretch of skin just under his ribs and Ponder gently spans it with one hand. "And this?"

"Ugh. Dragonfire. Another long story."

"Sounds like all of them are."

"Well, not all. There's a couple - you see the arrow wound?"

"Two, I think."

"Right, I forgot. Well, the one up near my shoulder is when I was running in a forest and some people decided they were angry with me. I don't know why. Didn't stop to ask. See? Short."

"That still leaves me the question of why you were running in a forest, which I suspect is much longer." Ponder traces the arrow wound with his thumb.

"Well, yes." Rincewind shrugs. "It's all sort of one big interconnected story starting with Twoflower and ending with me here."

"Twoflower?" Ponder tries to place the name. "The tourist?"

"Yes, that's right."

"I see." There's more to this story and Ponder intends to learn it, but for now he leans down and presses a kiss to Rincewind's shoulder. Rincewind tenses for a fraction of a second and then relaxes with a sigh.

"Come on," says Ponder, laying down on his side. "I've asked mine and now you can ask yours."

Rincewind lays down beside him, facing him, looking at the curving shapes on Ponder's chest. "They're very neat. Surgical, I would almost say."

"Igors," says Ponder quietly. "They can do some quite extraordinary things with knives, you know. My aunts were always very supportive and when they told me… It's unusual for the scars to remain but they say it happens sometimes. I don't mind them, anyway. Nobody's ever seen them before."

"I don't know what to say," says Rincewind. "I don't want to say anything that'd hurt you, or that you're afraid I'll say, or that you're tired of hearing."

"Just...tell me you don't mind," says Ponder, turning away.

"I don't see why I should mind. It's none of my business anyway, not unless you want to tell me."

"You're not going to ask any more questions?" asks Ponder.

"I meant what I just said." Rincewind's voice is very gentle. "I know it's not the same thing, but I do know something about desperately wanting to be someone. Or feeling that you are someone, only nobody'll listen to you. Anyway, the point is, I don't much care. I mean, I'll listen, but..."

"That's good," says Ponder, "I'm - thank you." He leans against Rincewind's neck. Rincewind's hand comes up and combs through his hair.

"You're all right," says Rincewind quietly, and it's the most comforting thing Ponder has heard in a long while.

-

The other half of the reason comes with the observation that Rincewind is very tactile, within his own given limits, when he's drunk or sleepy or otherwise for some reason relaxed. When he's not, he's tense and alert and jumpy - even with warning, he sometimes startles when touched.  
  
It takes Ponder longer than it should to put those two facts together. He doesn't manage it at all until one night when Rincewind is a bit of both, just an extra glass of wine at dinner and not much sleep the night before. He's in Ponder's room, curled up in the chair, reading a book that seems to involve something about verb tenses in Agatean from the glance Ponder got at it the other day. He's blinking and drooping.  
  
"You could come and lay down," says Ponder. "Instead of possibly falling off the the chair when you inevitably go to sleep where you're sitting."

Rincewind nods and crawls into the bed and lies beside Ponder. After a moment, he scoots closer.

Ponder raises his arms. Rincewind looks at him for a long moment, and then pillows his head on his chest.

With Ponder's arms lowered again, he is managing to read and cuddle at the same time, an arrangement he is perfectly satisfied with. Rincewind sighs, a soft contented sound, and closes his eyes.

"How come you're never like this when you're sober and awake?" Ponder murmurs, not entirely meaning Rincewind to hear.

But he must, because he opens his eyes and looks up at Ponder.

"Sorry," says Ponder, "I didn't mean to - forget it. I only mean, do you like it really or is it...?"

"Yes," says Rincewind a little too fast. "I do. Just - I can't always - " He sits up, disturbing Ponder's arrangement. "I'm sorry, it's not like that."

"What is it like?" says Ponder softly.

Rincewind shakes his head. "It doesn't make sense," he says. "It's not really... It's just, I know you'd never hurt me."

"Of course I wouldn't," says Ponder, puzzled.

"Well, but - " Rincewind looks away. "Not very many people have touched me for other reasons, you see. Not in a while. You get - used to things. You start expecting, based on experience, and I know you wouldn't, but it's still..."

Ponder blinks. "Oh," he says. "You're afraid - ?"

"Not of you," says Rincewind quickly. "It's just learned habit. Survival, you see. I'm good at dodging. Had to be."

The air has that peculiar tension again, the one that gives Ponder the sense that there's something very fragile in front of him, held in his hands. He wants to say the right thing, but he doesn't know what it is.

He says, "How long has it been?"

"Sorry?"

"Since someone last - I don't know, hugged you. Before me, I mean."

Rincewind frowns. "I don't know," he says. "I mean, subjectively or objectively, time has got a bit messed up for me, what with one thing and another."

"Have a guess, if you would. Years? Months? Weeks?"

"I suppose it depends on if you count the Librarian. You know how he is about hand-holding."

"All right, fair point. Barring him?"

"Um. Twoflower, I think."

Ponder blinks. "And that was - ?"

"Years. Can't say how many."

"Oh," says Ponder. He thinks about that. He's not a very tactile person himself but at least there's his students, with pats on the back and triumphant hugs and so on. Of course some people don't like being touched, but -

"Did you miss it?"

"Didn't really have time." Rincewind shrugs. "Spent most of it running for my life."

"I don't think that makes it better," says Ponder. "I think that sort of makes it worse. I mean, that'd be when you would need a hug most, wouldn't it?"

Rincewind shrugs again.

"Well," says Ponder, clearing his throat, "Any time you, er, feel the need - that is to say, if there's anything I can do to make you feel safer - "

"Just...keep doing what you're doing," says Rincewind, looking down at his hands. "I'll get there eventually."

"Okay," says Ponder.

After a moment Rincewind hesitantly lays back down again. Ponder arranges his book the way he'd had it before. Eventually, Rincewind falls asleep, and Ponder listens to the soft steady sound of his breathing as he reads.

He thinks they might be making it work.

-

Ponder wakes up one morning with the vague feeling that something is different.

He realizes after a moment that Rincewind is awake already, watching him thoughtfully over the pillows.

And that’s it.

“You didn’t scream,” he says sleepily. “Or did I sleep through it?”

That’s probably an odd way to greet someone first thing in the morning but if Rincewind notices he doesn’t show it. “I didn’t, I think,” he says. “I generally do notice these things.”

Ponder mmmm-s. “What does that mean?” he asks.

Rincewind shrugs. “That I had a good day. Or, well. A consecutive series of days that were, for me, good.”

“Oh.” Ponder is considering already where to file this in his notebook. He says, “Does that mean you didn’t have nightmares?”

Rincewind hesitates. “It generally means they weren’t as bad,” he says.

“Can, er, we do anything to make sure that keeps happening?” Ponder bites his lip. “It’s only that I worry about you. A bit. Sometimes.”

Rincewind looks at him oddly, like he’s off-balance. “I’m not sure,” he says. “Seems to be mostly luck. It happened on the island sometimes.”

Ponder sits up and hooks his glasses on. “What generally happened in the days before you woke up peacefully?” He grabs his notebook and gets ready to write.

Rincewind just shrugs. “Nothing much, really. That’s the point. It was boring.”

“Did it ever happen with Twoflower?”

“The nightmares didn’t really start till a while after Twoflower.” Rincewind sighs and sits up, rubs his eyes. “Mostly, anyway.”

“Oh,” says Ponder. His eyes drop to Rincewind’s chest. Most of the scars are on his back but there’s a jagged one along his collarbone that he once said was from a bull.

Rincewind catches him looking and looks away. “Most of those, too, yes,” he says.

Ponder reaches out and says “Can I?”

Rincewind nods. Ponder traces a hand along the scar. It brings home to him again how much of Rincewind’s history is marked into his skin for anyone to read it. It always makes Ponder want to learn to, to puzzle out all the answers he’s missed so far.

Somewhere buried in there there’s a sense of protectiveness that they engender, too. Or - tenderness, compassion. He’s not sure which. He doesn’t like to think about it too hard.

Hand still on the scar, he leans forward and kisses Rincewind, who responds after a moment. Ponder still gets the impression that being kissed still surprises Rincewind, like it’s not the kind of touch he’s used to, for all Ponder's been trying to make up for that lack.

“I have a hypothesis,” murmurs Ponder pulling back a little, his mouth a scant inch from Rincewind’s.

Rincewind huffs something like a laugh. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s have it, then.”

“I think you wake up peacefully when you feel safe. On the island it was just you and the Luggage. Almost nothing to be scared of. And here - well, it is the university.” Ponder pulls back more to look at Rincewind. “Do you think that’s accurate?”

Rincewind is looking back at him with that face again, the off-balance one. He looks at his own hands and says, “I think you may be, ah, underestimating your role a bit.”

Ponder blinks. Oh. He thinks his expression must be the one that Rincewind was wearing a second ago, like the world just turned under his feet. He takes a breath.

“Well,” he says. “I - I’m glad.”

Rincewind nods. “I ought to get up,” he says. “The Luggage gets stroppy if I don’t walk it in the morning.”

“Perhaps it can wait a bit?” says Ponder. “I thought you might like to, erm - ” he feels a bit silly actually saying the word but can’t think of another. “Cuddle,” he finishes.

Rincewind hesitates, and then lays back down, facing Ponder. Ponder scoots close and puts his arms around him. After a few moments, Rincewind’s arms come up around him too.

It’s all rather lovely until the Luggage comes breaking into the room looking for Rincewind. But Ponder thinks it was worth the subsequent chaos after all.

-

"Why?" says Rincewind suddenly, one day when they're sitting back-to-back in the study each reading a book.

It takes Ponder a second to realize the question is addressed to him. "Why what?"

"Why are you still here?"

Ponder, stung, says, "I didn't realize you wanted me to leave."

"No," says Rincewind. "Damn. That's not what I meant at all. What I meant was, why are you still here with me? Why haven't you given up yet?"

He says it in such a matter-of-fact tone, like "Why hasn't it rained yet?", like an inevitable part of life. Ponder blinks. "Because I like you?" he hazards.

Rincewind sighs. "Which, quite frankly, I don't understand either, but I don't think I'm worth all the trouble even so."

"Well, I do," says Ponder. "Besides, you're not trouble."

Ponder can practically hear Rincewind raising his eyebrows disbelievingly. "You're not," he says. "I like you. We get along. You understand when I rant about the faculty and you listen to me when I talk. Where's the trouble in that?"

"Who accidentally wakes you up at night because of nightmares, Ponder? Who flinches when you touch them or….panics for no reason or - " Rincewind makes a frustrated noise. "Not you."

"Who doesn't want sex?"

"I told you that doesn't matter. I don't care. It's a bit of a relief, really."

Ponder pauses, distracted. "It is?"

"Yeah. There's this pressure that's always - look, that's not the point. You've only got the one thing even if I did mind. I'm a mess."

"Have you seen HEX?"

"What's your point?"

"If messy bits scared me I'd have run screaming the day the beach ball appeared."

Ponder feels, rather than hears, the stutter in Rincewind's breathing.

"I don't understand you," says Rincewind. "You could have someone better."

"Well, firstly, I'm not...whatever we're doing, I'm not doing it because I'm lonely and have no other options." Ponder frowns, trying to think around the concept. "I have things to do, you know. I don't - I never really missed it. I became a wizard sort of assuming I'd never have any, er, of this sort of thing in my life, and I was quite all right with that idea. So this is just sort of a bonus, really. Ergo, there's no such thing as better. I hadn't got any expectations. This _is_  my better."

There's a sound suspiciously like a ragged tear-choked inhalation from behind him. Rincewind says, a little unsteadily, "But you could still do better than this. If you wanted. I'm sure you could."

Ponder makes a  face, even though Rincewind can't see it. "All other concerns aside, I think you're vastly overestimating precisely how attractive I am, Rincewind. I'm not exactly swimming in people who want to woo me."

There's a snort from Rincewind, which is encouraging, followed by, "Yes, well. They're missing out."

Oh. Ponder blinks. "They are?"

"You do know you're a bit incredible, don't you?"

"Um...no," says Ponder. "I don't think I do."

"You're the only one in this place who makes any sense, for one. And you have a good face."

"A good face?" Ponder laughs. "That's not very specific, Rincewind."

"I never said I was good at that sort of thing," says Rincewind. "It's definitely a compliment, all right?"

"I had gathered that much."

"Well, you do. And you're a lot nicer than most of them. And terrifyingly bright, of course."

"I can't tell if that one's a compliment," Ponder says, but he's smiling through it.

"Those of us in the dullard class are always going to be a bit intimidated by the shining stars." Ponder feels a shrug, and he's suddenly angry at whoever taught Rincewind that his talents didn't mean anything, that he'd never be anyone at all.

"You're not stupid," he says.

Rincewind shrugs again.

"You're not. You can speak a lot of languages, far more than I can, and you know how to survive in all sorts of situations, which is very useful. Also, didn't you save the world once?"

"Possibly twice, I'm not sure. But it doesn't count."

"Why on earth not?"

"It's not heroic if you don't set out to do heroism."

"Debatable and depending on your classification," says Ponder. "Anyway, I like you. That's something."

"You said." Rincewind's voice is soft now, a little bit wondering. "I still don't understand that, either."

"Do you need to?"

"Maybe not. Maybe it doesn't have to make sense. Maybe that's where I've been going wrong." Rincewind sighs. "I don't know."

Ponder reaches back for his hand, and Rincewind takes it, twines their fingers together.

"We'll figure it out," says Ponder, and he believes it.


End file.
